


step back forward

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:38:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13205070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: “Mind me joining you?” Apos asks, more out of courtesy than anything, but he does linger before sitting, waiting for the answer.“Suit yourself,” Arme replies, as per usual, and only then does Apos lower himself to the ground, grass soft and pleasantly cold underneath him. Henir’s eye closes behind him, appearing almost invisible from most angles. Arme prefers it that way.





	step back forward

**Author's Note:**

> i have to say this one is one of my personal faves jkkjhjkgjhgj

Arme never was the one for many words. He was more than content with silence, spent long afternoons in calm interventions simply sitting and praying, meditating.

It might be why Apos had grown to like being around the other celestial. Nothing to be lost from sitting close by, almost in Arme’s little ‘bubble’, and so much to be gained.

“Mind me joining you?” Apos asks, more out of courtesy than anything, but he does linger before sitting waiting for the answer.

“Suit yourself,” Arme replies, as per usual, and only then does Apos lower himself to the ground, grass soft and pleasantly cold underneath him. Henir’s eye closes behind him, appearing almost invisible from most angles. Arme prefers it that way.

There’s power radiating from Arme, similar but unlike Apos’ own. It’s brighter, almost blindingly so. Sometimes it hurt to just look at him — not because of his white, always immaculate clothing or gleaming gold adorning it, but his aura, still palpable even when out of celestial mode. Apos would never admit to basking in it, but that’s just what he’s doing, isn’t it?

Almost unconsciously, he scoots closer. Arme doesn’t flinch away, keeps his hands on his folded knees, eyes closed and lips parted, sometimes moving minisculely as he repeats a prayer in his mind.

Apos studies him; does mimic the words himself, if only a few.

There’s something about Arme, something he can’t put his finger on, as the humans say, but it manages to fill him with at least a tiny warmth, manages to swell the leftover shred of faith left in his heart. Apos remembers the Goddess not with disdain, but something almost akin to it.

Arme’s lips stop moving and suddenly he’s lost, any words of prayer gone, and with them the warmth. And he so desperately wants it back.

“Would you mind praying aloud?” he asks, and it’s all too obvious it takes Arme by surprise, because his eyes crack open and look at him with furrowed brows. He scrutinizes Apos. The corrupted can feel his gaze roving over him, over the so very obvious lines of corruption running down his previously pale skin, now a shade of purple like Henir’s own.

Not that Apos had ever seen Henir himself, but he has a feeling he looks like this. Just like Arme tries to simulate the Goddess’ glory with his whites and golds, Apos feels his body is doing the same with Henir. The thought is not as scary as it ought to be.

“Very well,” Arme breathes out finally, halfway dejected and halfway accepting Apos’ tentative trying to reconnect with the Goddess for what it is. Words leave his mouth now, articulated clearly and in Goddess’ perfect tongue. “ _Denn dein ist das Reich und die Kraft und die Herrlichkeit in Ewigkeit._ ”

Apos is hit by a wave of nostalgia, tangible in his chest like the hole present there. He joins halfway, his voice resonating with Arme’s and echoing despite them sitting out in the middle of nowhere.

“Thank you,” he breathes, truly grateful, but why he has not an idea.

Arme regards him with a nod and shifts on his knees to face a little more towards him. Now this has never happened before, and Apos feels like the other had accepted him somehow. His lips tug up even as his face forms a grimace, unable to properly categorize what he’s feeling.

But by the Goddess and Henir alike, there’s a lot of it.

He scoots even closer, close enough that his shoulder touches Arme’s. Still the other doesn’t flinch, or even give any sign of wanting to move. Apos’ shoulders, previously stiff with tension he hadn’t noticed, lower and all but slumps against Arme.

“Do you think we’re becoming more like humans?”

“You’re always full of questions, aren’t you?” Arme counters, softly, and Apos thinks that’s it, that he won’t say any more, but after a while he does. “Maybe. Not all has to be lost in chaos, you know.”

“I think I’m starting to.”

“That’s progress.” Arme almost sounds surprised.  _That’s_ progress _._

Apos raises a hand and touches a stray strand of blue hair, soft to the touch, and tucks it over Arme’s shoulder. Still the other doesn’t flinch.

“Sometimes taking a step back is the right path,” he barely exhales. His corruption doesn’t take a step back — can’t — but that doesn’t mean he can’t.

And, obviously, Arme neither.

“Then maybe we’re on the right path after all.”

“Maybe.”

Neither says anything after that, but they don’t move either. Arme accepts Apos’ head on his shoulder, accepts him into his bubble, and maybe, just maybe, Apos accepts him (and the Goddess) a little as well. Just maybe.


End file.
